


Wishing Well

by alyeskachi



Category: Dragon Ball, Gogeta - Fandom, Kakavege - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Cock Sucking, Depression, F/F, F/M, First ever story, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Gogeta - Freeform, Goku is a little primitive, Large Cock, Lots of kissing, M/M, MalexMale, Mental Breakdown, Mental Illness, Multi, OOC, Out of Character, Sexual Tension, Smut, This is cringe, Vegeta is an asshole, fucked up?, i dont know when this takes place, kakavege, primitive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28037094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyeskachi/pseuds/alyeskachi
Summary: Goku is... tired. His usual cheery self is long-gone in this story and nobody can seem to figure out why. Follow Goku as he tries to figure it out himself as well as deal with his feelings towards a certain Saiyan Prince.orThe one where Goku is depressed, and he doesn't understand it.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs & Vegeta, Chi-Chi/Piccolo (Dragon Ball), Chi-Chi/Son Goku (Dragon Ball), Kakarot/Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Panchy Briefs/Son Goku, Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Kudos: 18
Collections: Kakavege Week





	1. Downfall

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is an OLD story, so if things don't make sense, I apologize for that! If you enjoy the story feel free to leave comments & kudos, but don't feel as though you have to! <3

“Oh, I don’t think we need to celebrate Chi-Chi…” Goku mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck while he fumbled around the kitchen, attempting to move out of his wife’s way as she worked. For the sake of everyone, it was best if he just got out all-together. 

“Nonsense Goku!” Chi-Chi exclaimed, hands covered in flour from all the baking she’d been doing that day — the saiyan already knew that there was no way he’d be able to talk her out of it. “You and your friends saved everyone, I can’t think of a better reason not to celebrate.” She sounded giddy almost, which was rare.

“Gee Chi-Chi.. I didn’t know you felt that way. I thought you didn’t like it when I went off to fight.” He leant against the counter, which the smaller brunette was quick to shoo him away from, knowing that he’d try to dip his fingers in all the gooey batter. 

“I don’t, it’s very dangerous and you could get hurt!” She grumbled, but the frustration ebbed away and was slowly replaced with admiration. “But, it is what you do best.. and without you well, who knows where we’d all be right now.” He watched as she slammed the oven door shut on a plate of peanut butter cookies. “Not to mention, that life is gone!” The saiyan grimaced. 

“Plus, I already talked to Bulma and she loved the idea so much that she offered to host,” Chi-Chi grinned. “Isn’t that kind of her?” 

Goku wanted to roll his eyes, if Bulma was invovled then there was no stopping this thing. Chi-Chi had already put so much time and effort into the whole ordeal, that he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to, even if he was exhausted. “Everyone’s going to be there so I want you to pick up a suit okay? You are not wearing what you have on Goku, I mean it!” She twittered, handing him a card with an address on it. “They have a suit picked out for you waiting, would you be a dear and retrieve it? Thank you!” 

-

Goku didn’t dare go against Chi-Chi. Sure, he may have been considered one of the most powerful beings in the universe, but to go against his wife? A woman as beautiful yet as scary as her? He wouldn’t dare. What’s more, to go against Bulma and Chi-Chi? The outcome would be nothing but bloodshed. That, he wasn’t prepared for. 

He always did as she asked, maybe he didn’t always listen or meet her needs as she liked but he had tried his best to keep her happy in the years they were together and it seemed to work. Or at least, nothing seemed wrong. 

He didn’t always know how relationships were supposed to work. In fact, sometimes, he still wasn’t sure. He figured though, if Chi-Chi had complaints she would talk to him, right? He was sure that was the neccessary resolution when you had a differing opinion; to discuss it as adults with one another. 

Then why did he feel so nervous to tell her that he didn’t like the suit she’d picked out for him, as he stared at himself in the full-length, dark oak mirror. He stared at his reflection, and his sour expression stared back. His suit was a baby-blue, accessorize with ruffles pouring out from the neck and sleeves to uphold some sort of regal appearance. 

He hated it. 

“You look uncomfortable sir,” A young woman mumbled from behind him, and he felt his cheeks get hot at how ridiculous he must’ve looked in this get-up. “Would you like to try something else on?” She asked, clearly nervous. Goku swallowed, and reached up to scratch at the back of his head.

“Well my wife picked this suit out for me..” He said, glancing at her from the reflection of the mirror. She pursed her lips, nodding her head slowly before parting her lips to speak. “I see, there’s no harm in trying it on right? I think I have something that will suit you much better.” Before he could say anything she was gone and returned moments later with a zip tight bag. 

“Here you are sir, you can use changeroom two to try that on.” 

He nodded and followed her instructions, mumbling a “thanks” as he squeezed into the tight space of the changeroom, his shoulders just barely grazing the eggshell walls. He unzipped the bag with ease, and inside was a sleek, back suit, an undervest, matching dress pants, brown dress shoes and a white button up as an under-shirt. 

With a piqued interest he hastily changed into the suit, realizing that if he took too long, Chi-Chi might send someone after him. As he inched out of the dressing-room he came back to stand in front of the full-length, dark oak mirror and a soft smile tugged at his lips. The suit was form-fitting, hugging tightly at his muscles and extenuating his fit physique. Though his hair was unruly and his eyes tired, he liked the way he looked in it and more importantly, he liked the way he felt in it. 

“You like?” The woman asked, appearing behind him once more.

He nodded.

He liked it. 

-

When Goku returned home, the lights had been turned off and the only thing left behind was a note that stated: “Goku, meet me at Bulma’s! :)” He wanted to smile at what it meant, at the gesture the two most important women in his life were trying to put together for him but he just felt tired. He hadn’t felt this tired in… ever, it’s as though all he wanted to do was sleep. 

However, he knew he couldn’t keep them waiting, and so while being mindful not to rip or cause harm to his suit, he took off towards Bulma’s house — hoping that the party was already under way. 

-  
He was wrong, so utterly wrong. He had hoped that the party was already underway, but it was clear once he pushed the doors of the estate open and they all yelled “Surprise!” that they had been waiting for him to arrive. Thankfully he hadn’t stalled that much, as subconsciously he wanted this get together to be over as soon as he possibly could.

His friends and family swarmed him, drowning him in a see of love and affection while every fibre of his being wanted out of it. Once the Hello’s and sharing of hugs had died down, he made his way towards the obviously spiked punch bowl where his wife, Bulma and Vegeta were gathered. 

Chi-Chi was wearing a classic black dress that reached just below her knees, it was sleek and hugging her form, which was something that caught his attention almost immediately. He felt a pull deep in the pit of his stomach, a hunger that he’d pushed aside again and again as he’d always been to busy to indulge in it. Now though, he allowed himself this small moment, while he still had time. 

Bulma was wearing a rose gold dress that twinkled everytime the light hit it, accessorize with a tight necklace of pearls and earrings, adorned with a glass of wine between her gloved fingers. Vegeta was at her side, having ditched the overcoat and deciding to wear a navy blue button-up, dress pants and dress shoes. He looked.. good, exceptionally good. 

“Goku!” Bulma waved him over, interrupting his ogling. Damn. He thought, he had been hoping he would’ve been able to escape to the roof for some fresh air, or at least a place where he could enjoy his drink without being bombarded. He very nearly dragged himself over, retrieving a glass and pouring some of the spiked punch into it. 

“Goku!” Chi-Chi yelled, throwing a punch towards his left shoulder which did little to hurt him, if anything it only served to irritate him as he didn’t understand what he’d done to deserve such treatment. “You didn’t get the suit I wanted you to wear! You would’ve looked so good in it.” She purred, with an unfamiliar lilt in her tone that made the saiyan shift uncomfortably. 

“Oh come on!” Bulma exclaimed, staggering slightly where she stood. “He looks sexy Chi-Chi!” She was slurring slightly, and turned her head to look at her husband, whom she was currently looking at. “Geta, tell ‘er he looks sexy.” The blue-haired woman urged, and Goku found himself wondering what the other saiyan actually thoughf. His dark eyes lifted and focused on the shorter male, who looked irritated more than anything.

Bulma elbowed him in the ribs, to which through clenched teeth he managed to grit out the words: “Chi-Chi, your husband looks.. good.” Bulma rolled her eyes, but shrugged afterwards with a slight sway in her step. “Thas’ the best ‘yer gonn’ get.” 

“Well obviously I know that!” Chi-Chi yelled once more, which was only the beginning of the ache in Goku’s temples. He wanted nothing more to desperately escape their high-pitched voices, the slurring of their words, their suggestive tones and their revealing clothing. He wanted to get away from it all.

“You guyss.. you guys should have a baby!” 

Goku and Chi-Chi shared glances, confused and curious to know if Bulma really didn’t remember the children they’d had together. “Bulma…” Goku sighed, staring down into the empty glass that had been full only minutes before. Had he drank all of that alcohol so quickly? “We have two children together.” 

Bulma hiccuped. “Oh yeah..” 

Goku managed to slip away once Chi-Chi and Bulma had gotten into an argument about who was more beautiful, and when both husbands were unwilling to participate they deemed them useless. The saiyan filled his glass once more, and with such skill, managed to make his way undetected towards the roof-top. The sound of music and talking became a distant thrum, and he felt as though he could breathe better the farther he got away from it.

He swung one leg out of the window, and then the other followed, it was as though subconsciously he was itching for the fresh air, itching to release himself of his binding clothes, itching for the next thrill, for the next adventure. He would’ve done anything to be out there, searching for the dragon balls again. 

“Oh. You’re here.” He heard from back towards the window, and opened his once closed eyes to  
see Vegeta, sitting on the sill of the opened window, rocking back and forth as though he were unsure of what to do. “Yeah, and now you’re here.” Goku responded, allowing his eyes to close once more as he sipped from his glass, it was almost bittersweet. 

“To be fair, this is my house.” He heard Vegeta scoff. 

Goku sank further into the tiles against his back, it almost reminded him of the rough nights he had spent sleeping against the ground, under a sky full of stars, away from the luxuries mundane life had to offer. “Not done yet.” He responded, Vegeta said nothing. Goku could hear him shift, as though he were debating joining the party back downstairs. 

“Is Gohan with Trunks?” The heavy saiyan asked, still without opening his eyes. Perhaps it was childish of him to think so, but, when he closed his eyes everything went away. 

“How should I know!?” Vegeta seethed, his voice louder now that they were in closer proximity to one another. “Isn’t it their mother’s job to keep an eye on them? Go ask your wife, Kakarot.” Goku used to hate that name and everything it represented. Now, it was the only thing he didn’t seem to mind. 

“Are you mad that Gohan is teaching Trunks?”

“No, you idiot!” 

The bite back from Vegeta was quite expected, and it caused a soft smile to tug at Goku’s lips as he adjusted his arms so that they were underneath his head, acting as a firm pillow. Silence hung between them, but Goku found himself not minding. 

So much had changed, everyone was sure that their trying times were over. Of course, that’s what the celebration was for. However, selfishly enough Goku found himself longing for things to be how they used to — he missed the action, the adventure, all of it.

“I thought you liked parties.” He heard Vegeta say, which prompted him to peek at him through one eye. One leg was hugged to his chest, with an arm wrapped around it while the other was stretched out, Vegeta wore the same expression he always did, but Goku felt himself examining his face more intently. 

“No,” He grunted in response, looking away from  
the intensity of Vegeta’s eyes once they’d turned on him. “I appreciate them, Bulma, Chi-Chi and everyone puts so much time into everything.. but, I don’t know, I’m tired. I guess.” 

“A Saiyan, tired? Ha!” Vegeta mocked, which Goku was actually slightly grateful for. He wasn’t used to having deep conversations, in fact, he wasn’t even really sure on how to have them so the fact that Vegeta wasn’t taking him seriously was almost comical. 

“Hey ‘Geta?” The shorter male looked at him then, his expression showing a flicker of confusion as though he couldn’t comprehend why he’d given him a nickname, he didn’t say anything though. “Would you…” Goku scratched at the back of his head for a moment. “Do you wanna train with me?”

Vegeta grinned.

-

The gravity chamber that Doctor Brief had made was nothing less than amazing. It allowed for the Saiyan’s to reach levels far beyond their own imagination, to strengthen themselves not only physically, but also mentally. Not to mention, it was a good way of proving who was stronger. 

The two Saiyans stood facing one another, eyes locked on one another. They had created a way to have the chamber countdown until the gravity would maximize, and then their battle would begin. “Are you ready to get your ass kicked, Kakarot?” The timer for the gravity read 8  
Seconds Left. 

“You’re going to eat those words Vegeta!” Goku exclaimed, the timer ticked to 6 Seconds Left. 

Vegeta threw his head back and laughed then, but it wasn’t one filled with evil or bitterness, instead it was something genuine, and Goku felt  
the sound like a pull in his chest. 

4 Seconds Left.

“We’ll see about that!” Vegeta called, and just as the timer went to zero the shorter Saiyan sprung forward, knocking Goku off his feet and onto the ground. The taller male was shell shocked to say the least, other than the vicious blows Vegeta was dealing to his chest, there was nothing but mischief in his eyes. No intent to kill or harm, just him having fun. 

Goku grinned, wrapping his arms around Vegeta’s waist and with a quickness that was almost impossible, slammed him into the floor beneath them. The saiyan groaned, but was quick to raise his knee up into Goku’s gut, sending him skidding back until his shoulder hit the wall. 

“Had enough yet?” Vegeta huffed, clearly still winded from before. 

This time it was Goku’s turn to laugh as he sent a chi-blast in Vegeta’s direction, it pricked him on the way by, but the prince managed to dodge it well enough to avoid any damage. Vegeta was grinning now, and with his full force ran at Goku, ducking at the last second for his head to meet his chest, knocking the wind right out of him.

The larger Saiyan lifted his closed fist and allowed it to collide with Vegeta’s cheek, which earned a grunt and allowed Goku to pin him to the ground. 

“Get off me Kakarot! What is this!? Some type of maneuver that babies use!?” Vegeta struggled, but with his hands pinned and the gravity forcing  
even more of Goku’s weight down on him, it was virtually impossible to move this statue of a man. They were both sweating, panting, their faces bored bruises and even patches of blood.

Vegeta was staring up at him with confusion, and only then had he realized that he had been staring at him deeply now, for minutes, while all that hung between them was silence. 

“‘Geta..” Goku mumbled, and leaned down to bury his face in Vegeta’s luscious black locks. Inhaling his pine scent mixed with his body’s natural odour. 

“Kakarot! What are you doing!?” 

Goku didn’t know, really, he didn’t. His body seemed to have a mind of his own as his nose trailed from his soft hair to the expanse of his neck, the tip of it brushing along the side and eventually along his Adam’s apple. 

“Kakarot!” Vegeta sounded flustered, but didn’t struggle to move any longer. 

“There is nobody else like you, ‘geta.” Goku mumbled, resting his forehead against the Prince’s, staring down into those dark irises that were swirling with confusion. “You’re the only one…” who gets it. Goku wanted to say, but he was unsure if it was the right thing to say at this moment. 

“Can we just…” 

Goku felt Vegeta’s head move upwards towards his, his heart nearly exploded upon feeling Vegeta’s soft lips against his own, a nice contrast to his rough, chapped ones that he had been biting at all night. Their lips moved cautiously against one another’s, slow and unsure of what to do next. The Saiyan on top felt Vegeta’s tongue swipe at his lower lip, but did nothing to respond to it. 

“Idiot.” Vegeta mumbled against his lips, and Goku felt his hands slip out of his grip and up into his unruly hair, he was unsure of what he was doing until he was doing it and his mouth fell open in a small gasp. “So, I suppose you like hair-pulling.” Vegeta’s voice was teasing, but before he could respond to it the shorter male had already pulled him back in, this time using his parted mouth as an entryway for his tongue.

Their tongues slid against one another, and almost as though it were second nature, their hands began to explore one another. The bigger male groaned out upon feeling Vegeta’s calloused hands run along the expanse of his abdomen, nearing his lower regions that tingled with excitement at the very thought. 

Goku’s own hands squeezed Vegeta’s hips, and very slowly, mapped out the area of his hard chest — it was quite spectacular really. The larger saiyan pulled away from Vegeta’s lips and grinned at his confused expression, with his impatience growing he began to shuck off his suit, backing off of the shorter male so that he could kick off his shoes and begin unbuttoning his vest and undershirt. 

“Kakarot..” Vegeta was next to him within an instant, fingers reaching out to grasp at the short Goku was being so careful with, only to break it open. The sound of buttons hitting the floor bounced off the walls of the chamber, and the larger saiyan couldn’t find it in him to care as they began undressing one another in a fashion that could only be described as animalistic. 

Vegeta felt the cold metal of the chamber hit his naked shoulder blade and Goku captured his lips in a mind-numbing manner that made his knees feel as though they were jelly. His c*ck throbbed as the larger Saiyan sunk to his knees, unruly hair sticking out from all sides. 

“I want to suck it.” Goku said, with a slight growl to his voice. He didn’t wait for Vegeta’s response, only tugged at his boxers until they came off. He took Vegeta in his mouth not long after, being careful and torturous with his pace — despite the fact he had never done this before, he had seen Chi-Chi do it.

“Let me help.” Vegeta grunted, Goku looked up at him which earned a groan of pleasure from the other Saiyan. He felt Vegeta’s hands sink into the hair at the side of his head, and with an urgency pumped his hips forward into his mouth. Goku allowed it to happen, and even moved his head forwards when Vegeta would slam his hips forward. 

“Fuck!” Vegeta cursed, sending a tingle straight to Goku’s length, which was pooling with pre, taut against his boxers. 

He felt Vegeta pick up the pace, hips bucking back and forth to their own accord. There were small noises falling from his lips, and his fingers continued to clench around his hair, as though he were trying to have some resemblance of control even though it was clear he had already lost it. 

Vegeta’s orgasm reared it’s head, he held Kakarot in place as he spewed the thick liquid down his throat, and Goku albeit choked slightly, tried his best to swallow it all to avoid making a mess. The larger Saiyan felt Vegeta’s palm against his forehead, and just as he was about to lean into the touch, he felt Vegeta push him away, his other hand steadying himself on the wall while his chest rose and fell at an uneasy pace. 

“Idiot!” He breathed out, as some sort of show that he was clearly angry about the tryst that had transpired between them. It was hard to believe that he was angry, almost. There were beads of sweat dotting his forehead, and his face was flushed red, not to mention the noises he had been making. “I’m married,” He hissed, fingers curling into a fist. “And so are you.” He paid Goku no mind as he walked over to the machine that controlled the gravity, slamming one of his fists down onto the red button to stop the machine all together. 

Goku just stared up at him, confused and cotton-mouthed. He could feel the sting of hurt, not just physically but mentally as well. With shaky legs the larger Saiyan rose to his feet, eyes remaining downcast as he began to hastily dress, throwing the torn and broken button-up over his shoulders and quickly dressing into his suit. 

Without so much as a second glance Goku ducked out of the zero gravity chamber, only to be met by two angry expressions. The first to throw a punch was Chi-Chi, which landed right on his left cheek, and Bulma’s landed on his left cheek. He groaned, and staggered slightly.

“Goku! What did you…” She drank him in then, eyes raking over his appearance and how he’d messed up his newly bought suit shirt. “Goku you didn’t.” He watched her face flush scarlet, much faster than Vegeta’s had earlier and wondered why he was even comparing them in the first place.

“YOU BROKE YOUR NEW SUIT ALREADY!?” The door opened up behind him, and Vegeta managed to shove his way through, not without allowing himself a look at the tearing Chi-Chi was doing. 

She glanced over at Vegeta and then towards the chamber, then eyes, burning akin to something of fury landed back on him. “Chi-Chi.. wait—“ 

“YOU WERE TRAINING!?” She practically screamed, Goku could faintly hear the tearing into that Bulma was doing to Vegeta off to  
The side. “I thought you said you were going to give that up! You promised me! You said you were finished. You’re a liar!” Her voice rang like alarms in his head, how could he possibly expect to put an end to this madness. 

“I can’t!” He bellowed, voice darkening and dripping with the remnants of a man who had lost his way, a man who had no control over anything. A man who was so far gone, he didn’t know if he could ever come back. “It’s in there, like an itch I can’t scratch, it’s always on my mind. Constantly.” He felt his skin crawl and his stomach lurched. “You can’t take this away from me. You can’t expect me to—“ 

Smack! 

“Do I mean nothing to you!?” The party hadn’t completely followed them outside just yet, but he guaranteed that they were about to after the screaming match they’d just had. 

“I’m tired Chi-Chi.” Was all he said, before turning and walking away from her. Bulma called out for him, but Vegeta urged her to leave him be. He could hear his friends whispering, wondering what was wrong with him, and he knew he’d messed up, but how could he fix it  
now? 

-


	2. Restraint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit happens. A lot of it.

Goku didn’t go home that night, it was apparent once he had woken up, face covered in dark splotches and bruises that he’d either received in a drunken stupor that he’d put himself in last night, or from his and Vegeta’s coupling. He was unsure, he was unsure about a lot of things. What he was sure of though, was the pounding in his temples and the throbbing in his muscles. 

“Goku!” The familiar voice came from somewhere above him. “What are you doing!?” The voice hissed, in that familiar worried tone. His eyes regained their focus, and concentrated on the green male in front of him.

He groaned. “Piccolo.” 

“You have your entire family worried sick, moron!” He kicked lightly at Goku’s side, which bloomed with pain despite it being little to nothing of a strike. He was sure that Chi-Chi had gone home in hysterics, which was sure to worry his children and of course, they’d run to the namec.

“Get out of here.” Goku spat, which seemed to surprise the green male. He stooped down to get a good look at the Saiyan, and when their eyes met one another, it was almost as though Picolo’s softened, if only for a moment. “You’re hurt.” He said, matter-of-factly, to which Goku had to bite back a sarcastic remark. 

“Come on.” Picolo urged the male to get up, even offering his help by extending his hand towards the male. 

“I am not going home. Not right now.” He managed to get up on his own, albeit with shaky limbs and little effort. 

“No, not there,” Picolo assured him with nothing more than his words. “Follow me.” 

Goku obliged, because realistically, what other choice did he have? 

He could always lay back down in the dirt.

-

They arrived to Picolo’s home before long, it wasn’t much, in fact it was quite minimalist but he wouldn’t expect anything else from the namec. He was housed on the side of a cliff, in a cave that was decorated to look like a home, but didn’t show any signs that he’d truly made it his. From  
what Goku knew, things like paintings and photos made a place a home — and the people there. 

“Nice.” Goku said plainly, he actually didn’t mind it so much. There wasn’t as much to bump into, the space was wide and open, enough to fit two people in without resulting in yelling or pushing. 

“What are you doing, Goku?” Picolo asked, blunt and straight to the point as always. 

“I don’t know.” He answered, brushing some of the dirt away from his shoulders. “I’m tired.” It had been his response to most things lately, but the expression on Picolo’s face was the exact reason why he hated saying it.

I’m tired.

It sounded stupid. 

“There’s a hot spring in the side of the mountain, you should use it and then get some rest. You can stay here until you’re ready.” Goku was grateful for his friend’s offer, but he found himself frowning at his words.

Until you’re ready. 

He wondered if he’d ever feel ready to face everyone again.

-

A week had passed since Picolo had dragged Goku to his home. His family was aware of where he was staying, and had even sent clothes and his favourite foods with the namec. They clearly missed him, and he missed them too. So why didn’t he want to see them? Why didn’t he long for them?

He’d settled for a long black tee-shirt and a pair of jogging pants that definitely weren’t Chi-Chi’s, not that he could fit into her clothes anyways, he’d already tested that theory out. 

He spent most of his days wandering about the mountain side, alternating from visiting the hot springs to laying in bed, either sleeping or getting lost in his thoughts. Picolo didn’t ask, though he sometimes felt his presence linger far too long when he thought Goku wasn’t aware, almost as though he were trying to figure out how to get him out of bed. 

How to fix him. 

After a week had passed, he began to receive visitors, which he could tell was beginning to frustrate Picolo to no end. Bulma had come first, barrelling into his room despite the green male’s attempts to stop her. She’d come baring insults and a fight, he could sense that much, but upon hearing her footsteps enter the room, she didn’t say anything like he’d expected her to.

He listened as her footsteps retreated.

“Is he okay?” He could hear her ask, voice faint but the concern coating her words was clear as day. His art ached to tell her that he was, but he just didn’t know if that was the truth. 

“I don’t know,” Picolo responded. “I don’t know if he will be.” 

His visitors cycled throughout the week, Krillen had come to see him, bringing him some snacks and drinks in attempt to cheer him up. Goku managed to hold a light conversation about Krillen’s recent love interest, but nothing else really. 

His third visitor was his son, Gohan, who prattled on about how his training with Trunks was going, and how he was getting stronger. Goku listened with a piqued interest, and felt a stab of jealousy that Gohan was living the life he wanted, training like he’d love to. In the end, they had hugged and Gohan had left feeling better than when he arrived.

Chi-Chi had visited him too, offering him her version of a half-hearted apology, and attempting to show her the sweater she’d made. He could tell she was hurt by his disinterest, but he couldn’t find the strength within himself to comfort her. She kissed his hand before he left, it felt kind of nice. 

-

When one week had started to blur into two, and two into three, and the visitors continued to cycle throughout the day, he had begun to lose track of who was coming and who was going. He had managed to shower that morning, so that was something, but he had laid back down and pulled the covers up to his cheek all the same. 

“In there, he should be awake.” He heard Picolo say, to which he inwardly groaned. He had halfway accepted that this was him now, he was tired and even with all the rest in the world he would never not be tired. 

So why was his friends and family so insistent on coming to see him? To check up on him every week. It was only a reminder of how long his body had been pressed into the mattress currently beneath him now, and he hated it.

Much to his own dismay, he heard footsteps bounce off the walls of the cave, and come to a stop just by his bed. He tightened his hold on the blanket, and felt himself sink further into the material of the mattress, hoping that by some miracle he could shrink away into nothing. Maybe if he went stiff enough, they wouldn’t see him. 

“Tch,” He heard the familiar gravelly voice, and his heartbeat increased significantly. He was taken back to the zero gravity chamber, to that moment he had felt so alive with power and hunger, to that moment of shared intimacy between them before it all fell apart, shattered to pieces. “I heard it was bad, but I didn’t think it was this bad.” There was that same hostile mocking tone backing up his words, one that did nothing but irritate him. 

“Even for a lowly foot soldier such as yourself this is pathetic. You’re a Saiyan for god's sake, how can you be reduced to this?” Goku was itching to leave the bed more than ever now, if only to escape Vegeta’s nagging. He slowly sat up, spared Vegeta a bored look, and started his journey towards the hot springs. 

-

“So this is what your days consist of?” Vegeta asked, and this time Goku didn’t hold back his groan of annoyance. He had thought the shorter male had given up and went home, he had hoped as he was stripping down to the nude, that he had gone home to his wife and child and left him alone. 

That wasn’t the case of course.

Goku closed his eyes, as if he couldn’t see Vegeta that meant he couldn’t hear him either. His back hit the rocks of the spring, and the steam created a curtain between him and his genitalia, which he was thankful for with the audience and everything. 

“Vegeta, you sound like Chi-Chi.” Was all Goku said before allowing himself to sink below the surface of the water so he wouldn’t have to hear his response, or anymore of his harsh words. Everything else faded out into a low roar, all he could hear was the water rushing around him and it was nice. 

It was as though everything had stopped. For the time being, he wasn’t worrying what was above the surface, or how tired he felt. He was just here, he was just here and it was nice and that was all he knew. 

If he opened his eyes, he could vaguely make out Vegeta’s dark figure leaning over the side of the hot springs, attempting to spot him but he knew it was no use. Countless times he used this same technique to hide from Picolo, and it seemed to work not only on him, but everyone else too. 

Before long he felt that familiar pressure on his chest, threatening to worsen if he didn’t go up for air soon. It had been minutes already, and oh how fast they seemed to tick on when he didn’t want them to. If he could’ve held out for a little while longer, then maybe Vegeta would’ve left.

But it was no use.

His head broke the surface and he gasped in a mouthful of air, the thick locks of dark, black hair in his face made it almost impossible for him to see, but once he had caught his breath he pushed it back, only to face an annoyed Vegeta. 

“You didn’t leave yet?” Goku asked, casually, as though it should’ve been obvious that the himt for th shorter saiyan to go was obvious, which it was. Clearly though, Vegeta didn’t know how to take those. 

“Idiot! I didn’t come here to check up on you.” He didn’t know why, but the mere fact that Vegeta hadn’t come here to check on his well-being bothered him. He felt the jab pierce his heart, and leave a sting in its wake. Still, he would not let him have the satisfaction of knowing that he caused him pain. 

“Then leave, I didn’t ask you to come here.” Goku bit back, a passive aggressive tactic but still something that he couldn’t help. 

Vegeta sighed, clearly frustrated. “Look, I didn’t mean–“ 

Goku waved him off. “Goodbye Vegeta.” 

He regretted his dismissiveness almost immediately, he hadn’t wanted to just shrug him off or make him feel less than. In fact, as weeks passed he couldn’t help but wonder why Vegeta hadn’t come to visit yet. Now he was here and it was less than pleasant.

It was just sad. 

-

The next time Vegeta visited him wasn’t for a month and things had changed significantly. Chi-Chi had requested for them to take some time apart from their relationship, and Goku agreed because it was what she wanted. 

Not only that, but he’d also permanently moved into Picolo’s cave. The namec had decided that he wanted to venture to attempt to find his people, who’s home had been destroyed long ago. Gohan had invited himself to go along with him, so that he could see his young namec friend once again. 

Vegeta had visited him while Goku was watching the sunrise, it was early in the morning, and the world was still, serene even. The shorter saiyan had snuck up on him, and had come bearing a gift of the sorts. It was a tray with a bow sloppily taped to it, and inside was a baklava cake. 

“Why?” Goku asked, setting the cake tray down beside him. 

Vegeta sighed, and invited himself to take a seat. “Look, you know I don’t do the whole apologies thing.” The saiyan seemed restless, fiddling with his gloved hands and pulling at loose seams from his armour. 

“Vegeta, I can’t do this with you,” Goku said abruptly. “I can’t do the whole I like you, but I hate you thing. I can’t do the ``I'll visit you once a month thing, or I'll let you suck me off, get mad and pretend it’s okay afterwards.” It was a lot, he knew that it was a lot and yet he didn’t care. He needed it off his chest, this weight that he carried when it came to Vegeta. He needed it gone. 

“I’m not sure what else to do.” Vegeta answered, honestly. It wasn’t as though Goku himself could change decades of trauma, of toxic history that made him into the man he was today. He couldn’t change it, and he couldn’t force Vegeta to be something he wasn’t. 

“I need you to leave me alone.. at least, for a little while. Every time you come back it’s like I can’t breathe, you can’t just choose me one day and drop me the next… I can’t.. that’s not good for me right now.” He didn’t know where the honesty was coming from, or the painfully self awareness that he was showing but Vegeta simply nodded, it stung that he had nothing more to say but then again, he hadn’t left much room for it. 

“What now?” Vegeta asked, eyes casted towards the sun that was now sitting in its rightful place; the sky. 

Goku shrugged. “I don’t know, but I guess we’ll see.” 

-  
Time had passed since that conversation, lots and lots of time. Goku had remained in his cave home for the better part of a year, battling with himself and his inner demons that he couldn’t seem to fight off. His friends and family had stopped coming around as often, and figured it was best to leave him to himself. 

It wasn’t.

Three years passed and Goku had learned how to let his dark thoughts in, and how to breathe them out. It wasn’t easy, it was terrible and consuming and he felt as though he couldn’t breathe. Some days though, some days were bearable. 

Chi-Chi and him remained close friends, at most, platonic lovers and on his good days, he allowed himself to visit her at least once a week. Which she was happy for, and even insisted that he start coming around more so. Goku hadn’t just spent the last three years moping and sleeping, he had spent it training.

Training for a battle he couldn’t win, training for something that he couldn’t even physically fight. Still, it helped him on those not so good days, it helped him fight away his worst enemy — himself. It showed too, as if he couldn’t get any bigger he somehow managed to bulk up even more, he barely fit into some of the clothes he’d bought over the course of the last few months. 

He settled for a pair of grey sweatpants and a loose black tee-shirt. He would be going over to watch Goten while Chi-Chi went out to run errands, Goku imagined that his other son, Gohan was out and about, following the course of his own life. 

He did miss him though.

He missed their adventures together, fighting side by side as father and son should. Goten didn’t have the same life, instead he was strictly a scholar — his mother making sure that she drilled that into his head before he could even think about using any of his heightened abilities. It stung, but he knew that she was just looking out for them. 

When he arrived at the home that was located next to his childhood home, he was surprised to see that the door was left slightly ajar. With piqued interest, he slid into the house and stuck close to the wall. Inside he could hear muffled voices, Chi-Chi who sounded scared and a deeper one that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

He tried his best to sneak up the stairs, to peek into the room without getting caught. Yet what he saw disturbed him so badly that he couldn’t hold himself back. Chi-Chi was strapped to a chair, arms restricted so that she couldn’t escape, and a hooded man with a very dangerous weapon was pointed at her head. 

Goku barrelled into the man, managing to knock him away from Chi-Chi who screamed muffled noises. He was unsure of what she was trying to tell him, but realized it was too late once he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, and watched as his world faded to black and Chi-Chi became further out of reach. 

-

When he came to, he was not in the bedroom as he’d last been before he’d been knocked unconscious. He heard voices again, and saw dark figures looming over top of him. He shot up and onto his feet, crashing into a metal cart behind him and knocking glasses onto the floor, where they shattered into little pieces.

He practically snarled as he backed away, knocking and breaking things as he went. He positioned his hand at his side, his intention was to summon a chi-blast and strike them all down, but a pair of dainty yet calloused hands on his wrists stopped him from doing so.

“Goku!” The familiar voice said, and as the red from his vision cleared, his eyes focused on the blue-haired female he’d known since his juvenile days. “It’s me, it’s Bulma!” 

“Oh dear.” He heard Bulma’s mother say, and Doctor Brief clicked his tongue. “It seems he opened up that wound again with all that tripping and bouncing around he was doing.” 

Goku reached up to the back of his head, and when he brought his hand in front of his face again his fingers were coated with a sticky, red substance. “Bulma,” He was panicking, he wanted out of this room, he felt trapped — caged. “He took Chi-Chi, I was there– He took her and I couldn’t– I tried to-”

“Dad get the sedative,” Bulma said, and Goku felt his heart rate increase even more so. “Goku, you’re having a panic attack. My dad’s going to inject you with this needle—“ 

“No!” Goku cried out. “I hate needles, don’t stick me with a needle!” He was gripping Bulma’s hand, so tightly that she was wincing. 

“Idiot.” He heard a new voice, and thought he saw a flash of Vegeta’s face before a hard impact connecting with his forehead caused his vision to blacken once more, and his body to crumple to the floor.

-

“You know Dad, Picolo comes over to our house a lot.” Gohan told him once, when he’d visited him on one of his bad days, when all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and disappear forever. “He comes over for supper, sometimes he sleeps over.” Goku tried to feel something negative towards the news, but he just felt numb. Everyone was moving on without him, leaving him behind to become a forgotten whisper in the wind. 

“How does that make you feel?” Goku asked, trying to interact and engage in conversation with his son, who he’d been absent from for a long time now. He wished he could feel something. “Well,” Gohan started. “I like Picolo, and I like my mom, so I really don’t mind. It’s nice seeing mom happy again.” 

Silence hung between them.

“Dad?” Gohan asked and Goku turned slightly to look at his son. 

“Yes Gohan?”

Gohan furrowed his eyebrows. “Will you ever be happy again?” 

He heard those voices again, they were hushed and muffled like he had dunked his head under the water at the hot springs. Only this time, he couldn’t see the surface, or seem to break through it. He attempted to move his body, but he was stiff, he struggled but nothing happened. 

When he came to, and colour as well as picture leaked slowly back into his field of vision, he found that he was strapped down to a bed. His legs, arms and waist were bound by leather straps, forbidding him from going anywhere. When he looked around the room, he only found three people: Bulma, Vegeta, and Krillen all took up the empty space, glancing back and forth from one another as they engaged in soft discussion. 

“Bulma!” Goku struggled against the straps. “Let me out! Chi-Chi needs help.” 

Bulma whirled around to look him over, and sighed. “Goku listen to me, please.” He furrowed his eyebrows and waited impatiently for her to begin explaining herself. “I don’t think your time out in the mountains has been good for you, you tried to attack me when I was trying to help you.” She seemed almost hurt by what had transpired, but he couldn’t remember much of it, only that he’d felt trapped.

“I was backed into a corner!” He argued. “You can’t trap me in a room, tie me down and expect me not to freak out! Get me out of here.” His voice darkened. “Now.” 

Krillen interrupted their heated discussion then. “Goku, buddy, you’re scaring us,” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “You need to rest, you’ve lost a lot of blood and—“

“I don’t care!” The Saiyan snapped, eyes wide and angry. “Give me a senzu bean, beat me until I’m an inch from my life, put me in a healing chamber, I need to help her.” 

“Picolo and Gohan are already on it buddy,” Krillen tried to comfort him, but his words only did more to infuriate him further. “You need to stay here and rest for awhile, we’re just trying to help you.” Goku scoffed, right in his best friend’s face. He struggled some more against the restraints, until his eyes landed on the other saiyan in the room, the one who wasn’t paying him any mind. 

“You’re okay with this!?” He practically growled, Vegeta’s eyes didn’t even snap up to meet him but he noticed the tick in his jaw even so, the one sign that Vegeta heard him, and was paying attention to his every work. “Answer me!” The saiyan looked at him then, eyes hard and icy as they’d been. Then he simply turned and walked out, because he could do that and Goku couldn’t.

“I’ll kill you!” Goku screamed, “I’ll–“ He felt something sharp prick his arm, and within moments he was unconscious, again. 

-

This time when he woke up, Bulma and Krillen were gone. Vegeta was still in the corner of the room, arms folded across his chest and eyes downcast in a constant furrow that made him look angry always. The room except for him, a window, some plants and a glass of water as well as painkillers on the side of the bed were all that was left. 

Goku didn’t say anything at first, he recounted how long he’d been in this bed, restricted under the same straps of leather. Did they not realize what they were doing? Did they not understand that he didn’t want this. 

His eyes flickered to Vegeta again. 

“I don’t want this,” He said, bluntly. Vegeta must have been lost in thought because he startled at the sound of Goku’s voice, but still refused to look at him. “I’m not an animal.” He said, though he sounded unsure, had his time been bad for him? It couldn’t have been. 

“I want to go home.” He said with a sadness to his tone that was genuine, he wanted to be back in his hot spring, to disappear under the water and curl up underneath his bedsheets when he was having a bad day. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want this. 

“Vegeta?” He asked, softly, staring up at the plain tiles of the ceiling. He couldn’t tell if the shorter saiyan was looking at him, but he did hear him shift his weight so that had to account for something, right? “Are you okay with this?” The question was meek, and he felt a familiar burning sensation behind his eyes. 

“You’re out of control,” Vegeta answered, his tone leveled to preserve some type of professionalism, despite the history between them. “This is for your own good.”

“Is that what Bulma said?” 

Vegeta sighed. 

“Kakarot..” his voice had a warning to it.

“No! Don’t patronize me,” Goku cut him off, feeling offended and hurt that he would even dare to suggest that this was just. “If it were you in my place, and I was in yours, not for a second would I hesitate to get you out of here.” 

“Bulma had mentioned you had begun to make weekly visits with your woman, how is it that you have seemed to reduce to such a primitive way?” The prince was turned towards him now, but Goku refused to look at him, he couldn’t stand to, not now.

“You try staying calm once you wake up after seeing the mother of your children tied to a chair like some prize,” He spat. Perhaps isolation had changed him, in more ways than one. The loneliness had caused a bitterness to grow within him, and these days it seemed harder than ever to keep it at bay. “Not knowing anything, not recognizing anything. The only thing to guide you is the animalistic instinct to survive.” He bit back, though there was less malice in his voice this time around.

“Here.” Vegeta said, completely dodging the conversation topic. He had wrapped his hand around the glass of water that had been left for him. His mouth cried out for the liquid, but he didn’t dare move his head or gaze to the water, he would not accept water from someone else’s hand as though he were a slave. “You’re not leaving anytime soon, Bulma wants to run tests on you, so you should drink.” 

Goku spared him a bored look, then refocused his gaze on the ceiling. 

“Fine, get dehydrated for all I care,” Vegeta grumbled, aggressively placing the glass of water where it used to be. “Idiot.” He hissed, as he began to walk back towards his corner. 

“What are you gonna sedate me again?” Goku spat, eyebrows furrowing at the very thought of a needle hearing his skin again. He’d fight tooth and nail before that happened, his friends and loved ones knew about his fears and if Chi-Chi had any say, he wouldn’t be like this right now. 

Vegeta looked angry at his words. “That was not my choice!” 

Goku rolled his eyes and struggled against the leather straps some more, he had found that he was able to turn his torso in the slightest movements, but mostly everything except his head, fingers and toes possessed motor functions. 

The door flew open and in walked Bulma and her father, Doctor Brief. Goku stiffened almost immediately, eyes falling to their hands to inspect their grubby fingers for needles of the sorts. “Bulma are you sure about this?” Her father asked, looking in his direction in a concerned manner.

“Don’t you know never to question a woman!?” Bulma responded, seemingly offended that her father would even suggest that she was in the wrong, or had been wrong about this whole predicament. “Explain it to me again, please.” The Doctor sighed, rubbing a hand along his forehead in a stressed manner.

“I want to check his brain activity. When Goku was a child, he would transform into a huge ape, and he wouldn’t remember a thing by the time it was over,” She was staring at the computer, reading something that he couldn’t see. “Sure, he had lost his ability to transform when we cut off his tail — a nuisance that thing was! However, it’s never hindered his skills or abilities, maybe being alone in isolation has somehow brought back some of those primitive instincts. You know?” He listened to the sound of the keys clicking under the weight of her fingertips.

“Kind of like.. when a tiger is brought into captivity. Sure, it’s nicer and it may not know how to survive on it’s own, deeming you as a friend, but once those primitive instincts kick in, it will still kill to protect itself.” Doctor Brief nodded, sparing the restrained saiyan a worried glance. 

“We have to do these tests anyways, it will help us help him.” She decided, and before anyone could interrupt, called out for her mother. Her mother arrived with another glass of water and another pill, the capsule was a baby blue and the water contained ice. “Do your thing.” Bulma gestured towards him, and once more Goku began struggling.

“Oh no sweetie,” Bulma’s mother said, inviting herself to sit on the edge of the bed so she could rest the palm of her hand against his bicep. “While I do like seeing you all tied up, I do not like that mean look on your handsome face.” She tsked, pouting her lips as her eyes flickered over to her daughter. He did his best to ignore the suggestive undertones in her words. “I convinced her not to give you the needle, now I know you don’t like this but I need you to drink some water for me okay?” She raked her fingers through his hair, and it actually felt sort of… nice? 

He heard Vegeta scoff from behind him. 

“I am really thirsty.” He smiled softly at her, she’d always been really good to him, and judging by her air-headed nature, he knew that she couldn’t have been a part of this scheme. “Could you help me?”

She giggled. “Of course Honey, let me just..” She leant forward, giving the Saiyan quite a view which earned a groan from Bulma. She adjusted his head so that he was sitting up, and when he opened his mouth, carefully placing the pill on his tongue. His mouth cried tears of joy once she had brought the glass of water to his lips, which allowed him to swallow the whole glass in one fell gulp. 

“Thank you.” He chirped, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he settled back into the pillow. It was nice that somebody was finally listening to him, and acknowledging that this was wrong. She smiled again then. “No need to thank me handsome, we can’t let someone as hunky as you waste away. That’d be a crime.” She tapped his nose in an affectionate manner before leaving him. 

“Goku, before this thing knocks you out, I want you to know that we all care about you.” She was turned towards him, and he watched as she beckoned Vegeta over with a wave of her hand. He begrudgingly moped over, arms still crossed over his chest. “Geta, tell Goku how much we care about him.” 

Goku felt his eyelids begin to get heavy and he yawned. “‘S okay Bulma, don’t wake me up.” He was unsure of what he was saying, and he was not in control of his mouth, or the words spilling out of them.

She blinked, and with a sad tone asked, “What?” 

He passed out before he could say much else, only a few inaudible noises that they weren’t able to make out. 

-


	3. Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group says their goodbyes, and Goku deals with his emotions - or tries to.

“Let me see him!” The voice was fuzzy within the darkness all around him, but he felt a pull in his chest all the same. 

“Wait, it’s not what–“

“Let me see him or I’ll blow this place up!” He heard the person yell, more clearly as though they were closer to him now. 

“Gohan!” 

His vision cleared upon feeling a heavy weight on top of him, instead of doing the opposite and sinking him back further into the warm darkness around him it pulled him into the world of consciousness, a place where he was unsure if he wanted to be or not right now. It seemed safer here, much more serene. 

When he came to, he was still in the same room as he had been for what seemed like days. He didn’t know how long he’d been there for, as he had no way of keeping track of the time since he’d been laying there. 

“What did they do to you!?” He blinked, and leaning over him was his son, a curl framing the middle of his face and dressed in the outfit he’d had since he was a child, only modified to fit him better as he grew. “I’m getting you out of here.” He declared, and when Bulma moved to stop him Vegeta stopped her, she did not want to get in the middle of two saiyans. 

Gohan easily dismantled the leather straps around his body, restricting him and forcing him to stay tied to the bed. His skin bore red marks and welts from the straps digging into his skin, and he could barely feel where they had been previously. “How could you!?” Gohan exclaimed, fingers curling into themselves to make a fist, followed by him slamming his fist into the wall. 

“Gohan,” Goku managed to say, reaching out to gently tug at his arm until he complied and allowed his father to pull him close to his body for a hug. His son melted into him, what he’d seen had clearly upset him, despite how old he was now he’d always need his father. “It’s okay.” He rubbed his son’s back, and tried not to focus on the couple standing in the corner, discussing quietly.

“Where’s your mother? Did you find her?” He asked, and Gohan stepped back, eyes downcast and refusing to meet Goku’s gaze. The older saiyan felt his stomach drop and a force squeeze at his heart, he didn’t like what this meant. 

“Gohan?” 

Gohan was visibly shaking now, and his cheeks were flushed red from what seemed to be like him getting angry. “She’s gone, dad.” He managed to say, but still refused to look at him. “She’s gone, and I killed him.” His son began to sink to the floor, grief overcoming him but Goku was quick to grab him and pull him close once more. “I killed him, I killed him and mom’s still gone. She’s gone.” 

“You should’ve been there!” Gohan was now hitting him, full force and not holding back. Goku let him, Goku let him because he was filled with a familiar numbness, he was numb and his son needed this, he needed to let his emotions out. “You could’ve saved her!” The younger saiyan was crying now, sobbing even as his hits became weaker until he could move no more. 

“She’s gone.” He sobbed. “She’s gone.” 

-

Time had passed since then, what felt like a great deal of time was only a month and a half, maybe more. He really wasn’t sure. Goku had been forced to abandon his home in the side of the mountain, not that he’d complained, but Goten was still too young to care for himself and Gohan, Gohan wasn’t doing the greatest right now. They needed him, and in some ways, he needed them. 

He was drowning. No, not just him, they were all drowning but somehow they were helping each other keep their heads above the water. Barely, but they managed. Everyday was more difficult than the last, with Goku’s dreams being plagued by the last time he saw Chi-Chi, and Gohan’s being plagued with him finding her, and killing someone in revenge. 

Trunks came around a lot and Goku didn’t mind much, he’d say his hellos, and then make his way up to the spare bedroom where Gohan would stay occasionally, talk to him as if he was responding or adding to the conversation, which he wasn't. It was nice, actually. To hear the sound of conversation in the house, to hear something other than the deafening sound of silence. 

He wasn’t sure what day of the week it was, other than the fact that it was a very specific day. He had spent the last month making arrangements, turning down his friends offering their help and attempted to do it on his own. He’d gotten most of it right, if not all. Or at least he assumed so, because people were piling into the church while he was getting fresh air. 

Gohan still had yet to show, and Goten was inside, situated next to Bulma’s mother who was having the time of her life fawning over how cute he was. 

He had forgotten his blazer inside, not that he really cared. Instead he wore a soft orange button up, with dress pants and leather brown boots. The last time he had worn this suit, it had been at the celebration party years ago, when he had tried to figure out his feelings regarding Vegeta, and when he’d felt so lost. 

He almost wished he was there instead of here. Actually, he couldn’t even believe that this was happening. That this was real. 

“Here, son.” Out of nowhere, Bulma’s father, Doctor Brief, had shown up. Standing at his side and extending a lit cigar towards the Saiyan, which he was hesitant to take. Chi-Chi had always told him that it was bad for him, and that he should always be setting an example for his children. 

He took the cigar from Doctor Brief with a half-hearted smile. “Thanks.” Goku said, it was really all he could muster, he wasn’t sure if he could even speak in front of everyone, but he knew that he had to. 

Goku allowed himself a few minutes to enjoy the cigar, for the few minutes where he could forget before he would have to enter that church and finalize everything. “Guess we’d better get on with it.” He mumbled, handing the cigar back to Bulma’s father before stuffing his hands back in his pockets and making his way back inside the church.

His eyes searched the pews desperately for his son, he knew that today would’ve been a hard day for him, but he also knew that Gohan would never forgive himself if he didn’t show. Dark hues settled on Gohan, sitting next to supportive Trunks, seated right up front. It looked as though they were locked in a deep conversation, or well, it looked as though Trunks was talking to him. As usual. 

He made his way towards Gohan, who had left room for him on the end of the pew. Goku had recently asked his son if he’d wanted to say anything, but Gohan had simply answered that he couldn’t, which the older saiyan understood completely. Goku still didn’t know if he could. 

The time eventually came for him to walk up to the stand, to give the speech that he’d been planning for weeks now, despite nothing feeling good enough for Chi-Chi. If she would’ve been here now, she would’ve said something way better than he could’ve. He shifted uncomfortably, and felt all eyes on him, but he tried not to care. He tried.

“I..” He began, but he blanked. The material he had written was gone from his mind, and he hadn’t prepared cue cards to read off of. He exhaled and continued. “Chi-Chi was a great woman,” He started, and his heart had already begun to ache. “She was a loving wife, an amazing mother, and a great friend. She was someone you wanted in your life.” Goku nodded at his own words, they rang true after all.

“I didn’t deserve her,” He admitted, earning a few weird looks from his loved ones. “I wasn’t always the best husband.. and I definitely wasn’t always the best father. She deserved more, they all did.” He glanced over to Gohan, who was looking at him with blank eyes, a face that had been so expressive was now void of emotion. 

“Chi-Chi was the type of person who would kiss and hit you in the same minute if she thought you deserved it,” He laughed softly, a sound that had no genuine happiness in it, just the ghost of it. Soon to be long forgotten. “And sometimes she’d knit you a sweater when you were sick in the hospital.” He continued to talk about the good Chi-Chi did, and the memories she left in her wake. He heard sniffling amongst the crowd during his speech, but he tried not to focus on it. 

When he was finished, he sat back down in his place, and patted his son on the back. They didn’t have a bad relationship, but it had certainly suffered. 

When the funeral was over, Gohan announced that he would be out for the night, and Bulma’s mother had offered to take Goten for the night, considering he’d fallen asleep against her side. Goku couldn’t say no, he knew that, so instead he grabbed a bottle of alcohol from the front of the room and pushed open the doors of the church. He wanted to be somewhere nobody else would find him, and he decided the best place for that was the church roof. 

The cold tiles against his back felt nice, his skin was slick with hot sweat and he felt a tightness in his chest since he’d arrived. This shouldn’t have been happening, he shouldn’t be here. Gohan shouldn’t have been at his own mother’s funeral, not this young.

He was right of course, when he said that he should’ve been there, that he could’ve saved his mother. He was right. He had tried to convince them, but they were so sure that Picolo and Gohan could save here, and in the end they had been wrong and it had cost Chi-Chi her life. 

Gohan hadn’t shared much about that night, only that he’d killed his mother’s murderer, and nothing else. 

He felt the hot burn of the alcohol sliding down his throat and relished in it. It was the only thing that felt good right now, it was the only thing that made sense to him in the midst of the garbage fire that the last month had been. 

“Kakarot.” He heard from behind him, and though it startled him he didn’t move to look at the other saiyan, only took another swig from the quickly emptying bottle. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with. “Vegeta.” He responded, the shorter saiyan’s present only served to enhance the ache in his chest. 

“You’re drunk.” Goku didn’t say anything to that, only shrugged his shoulders and took another drink from the bottle. “You should probably go home.” 

“You should probably go home.” Goku mocked him, to which Vegeta sighed at and decided to sit next to him. Despite the mocking, he had meant his words, if he wanted anything right now, it was to be alone. 

“You really should lay off this.” Vegeta gestures to the half empty bottle in his hand, and Goku scoffed at that. 

“What you want ‘Geta?” He slurred slightly, resting his head in his hands as his thumbs pressed circles into his temple, something to calm his oncoming headache. “Not in th’ mood.” He hiccuped. “Plus, ‘m mad at you!” Vegeta sighed at that, and Goku was almost too painfully aware at how childish he sounded.

“I know.” The shorter saiyan responded.

Goku huffed. “You didn’ lemme out.” 

Vegeta nodded. “I know.” 

“N’ you liked what we did ‘n the training-“ He hiccuped. “Got mad at me.” 

“Shut up, idiot!” If Goku had been more sober, he would’ve been able to realize that his words had flustered Vegeta, and that his face had grown hot with the colour red. “I couldn’t let you out, you were insane, you said you were going to kill my Bulma—“

Goku chortled. “I woulda ‘n you woulda too if she tied you up like a animals.” The sober saiyan said nothing and Goku found himself wondering if he’d gone too far with his words, but it wasn’t as though he could really control them. Not right now. “But my woman is dead.” He deadpanned, and felt the tension between them get thicker.

“‘N I coulda saved ‘er, but Bulma didn’t lemme out. I coulda saved her ‘Geta.”

Vegeta sighed. “I know.” 

-

When Goku woke up that morning everything hit him at once. Everything. 

Mixed emotions and feelings washed over him like waves, and he very nearly felt as though he were drowning. He had been at the church, at the funeral. He had said things, things that were true and things that made him very self aware of how he could’ve been better.

He was very aware that it was too late, even if he wanted to fix things between him and Chi-Chi, there would be no chance of it. Not now, not ever. She was gone, and in leaving she had taken something of his with her, something he’d never be able to take back. 

His head hurt, his body ached, his stomach sloshed with warnings of nausea and an early morning puke fest. 

However, when he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find that he was in the spare bedroom of the home he and his wife had shared, the home that his kids had been raised in. He was more surprised to find a particular body in the bed next to him, curled up on their side and leaning into the warmth that the larger saiyan was providing. 

If this wasn’t the definition of confusing, then he wasn’t really sure what was. 

He knew that he needed to face the day, that he needed to take it one step at a time, but today wasn’t the greatest of days, and all he wanted to do was hide today. So, while he still could, he buried his nose in Vegeta’s dark, messy hair and closed his eyes, slipping away into the void of sleep. 

-

When he awoke again, it was mid-day and the bed was empty besides him, the only evidence that Vegeta had been there at all was the crumpled sheets where he once lay. Other than that, he had picked up well after himself. Goku wasn’t really sure why he felt disappointed, maybe it was the fact that he really didn’t want to wake up alone, or maybe, simply, he just didn’t want to be alone at all. 

In nothing but boxers and socks he made his way down the stairs, albeit a little wobbly, but successfully nonetheless. As he came closer to the kitchen, he heard voices, soft voices as though they were trying to keep quiet. He staggered into the kitchen, and found his son, and Trunks sitting at the dinner table, eating what looked like left-overs of some sort.

“Oh, hey dad.” Gohan said, all nonchalant like he hadn’t been avoiding or ignoring him for the last month. Was he dreaming? Vegeta in his bed, Gohan speaking to him? It all seemed like a lot at once, he found it too good to be true. “I hope it’s okay Trunks came over.”

“Of course.” Goku mumbled, leaning against the wall. 

“My mother wants you and Gohan to go over for dinner tonight.” Trunks said, blunt and upfront just as his parents always were. It earned a soft punch in the shoulder from Gohan. “I told you not to just spring it on him!” His son seethed, as though he were genuinely upset that the younger male hadn’t followed through on his advice. 

“She said that she wants to see you, plus, Grammy still has Goten, and if you don’t get over there soon her and Grandpa might try to adopt him.” Trunks shrugged and Goku sighed, knowing that he really had no choice in the matter.

“I guess that settles that then,” He mumbled. “I’ll get dressed and meet you boys over there.” They glanced at one another and nodded, without a second question or glance they were out the door, and Goku wasn’t very far behind.

-


	4. No Answers

When he arrived at Bulma’s house, hair held back by a black bandana against his forehead, and dressed in a baby blue button-up, as well as a pair of slacks and slightly heeled dress shoes. He didn’t feel put together, or in control, but he wanted to keep up the appearance that he was okay, even if he wasn’t.

He didn’t trust them, at least not as much as he used to.

His eyes flickered over to the gravity chamber, and he felt his cheeks get hot but swallowed it down. He wouldn’t allow his emotions to get the better of him, he’d try his hardest to remain calm, even if the inside of him was a shit show.

With a deep breath, he walked through the front doors of Bulma’s residence, where she lived with her husband, child and parents. He could hear the soft flow of conversation upon stepping into their home, how light-hearted and nice it sounded. He knew as soon as he entered that the vibe would change, and he would be the cause of it. 

He continued through the house until he arrived at the dining room, everyone was seated at a large table, but not just who he was expecting. It was not just Bulma and her family, but Picolo, Krillin, Yamcha, and even Ox-King. Gohan looked sheepish, Bulma was clearly nervous about his reaction, and Vegeta simply wore the same look as always: brooding, angry, etc. He felt annoyance and anger build, but instead, he swallowed that down and took a seat in the middle of Vegeta and Gohan, begrudgingly of course.

“Hey Goku, you okay buddy?” Krillin had leaned forwards to whisper to him, as if nobody could hear but Goku knew at least most of them, if not all of them were paying attention. 

Goku smiled, Krillin reeled, almost as if he’d been hit. “Yeah Krillin, I’m okay! I’ve just been busy.” His tone was fixed to match the attitude he had before his mental health had worsened, before Chi-Chi had passed away, before all of it. However, Krillin seemed sold as he grinned and offered a brofist, to which Goku returned. Upon seeing that Goku was back to his old ways, the lighthearted conversation continued, and he felt some of the tension leave his shoulders.

“Hey dad, can me and Trunks go practice in the gravity chamber? He won’t stop bothering me about stories of how you two trained in over one hundred times gravity!” Gohan gushed, and Goku rubbed the back of his neck almost awkwardly. “I don’t see why not.” He shrugged, and the two teenagers scrambled off to go and test their limits. 

“Goku!” Bulma’s mother giggled, and slid into the seat that Gohan had been occupying moments before. As usual, she rested her hands on his biceps, giving the muscle a playful tease before she continued her sentence. “You look great! How are you doing honey?” Panchy asked, expression filled with concern.

Goku felt his cheeks heat up at the attention. “Oh.. I’m okay, I’ve just been a little tired that’s all! Gohan is pretty busy these days, I feel old.” He laughed, half-heartedly, rubbing at the back of his neck to give his hands something to do. 

“Well you definitely don’t look old!” She winked, and tapped at the bandana around his head, before her lips curled into a soft pout. “I’m sad that you decided to wear this thing, your hair is absolutely beautiful, now I can’t touch it!” She almost whined, shaking her head. 

“Panchy,” Vegeta cleared his throat. “Why don’t you get everyone drinks?” 

She grinned. “Good idea, I’d love to get a few drinks into this one!” She gestured towards Goku, who laughed nervously and only began to relax once she’d left the room. She was an attractive woman no doubt, but she was Bulma’s mom and he wasn’t sure that would be a good idea. 

“Thanks.” Goku mumbled, trying to catch Vegeta’s eye who purposely avoided eye contact with him. Their usual game of cat and mouse. His eyes flickered over to Picolo, who was more silent than usual, it was almost eerie the way his face was shadowed by his tall hat and how stiff he seemed. He had cared about Chi-Chi too, Goku knew that much. 

“Goku!” Yamcha practically exclaimed from across the table, bounding over to sling an arm around his neck in a playful headlock that barely phased the Saiyan. “Bulma said she’d totally want to see us in a fight because it’s been so long! I told her that you’d do it.” He messed up Goku’s hair then, causing the bandana to fall and his unruly locks to be released full force. 

“Yamcha, I don’t think–“ 

“A fight!” Panchy giggled, setting down a drink in front of him that he wished had come sooner, so that he could have an actual excuse not to do the fight. “You’ve got to do it, I haven’t seen you fight in forever. Plus, you look good while doing it!”

“Mom!” Bulma groaned. 

“Okay.” Goku scratched his head slightly and Yamcha cheered, releasing his weak hold on the brute of a man before bounding towards the exit that would take them to the backyard. He wasn’t sure how good he was at fighting anymore, he wasn’t sure how rusty he’d become. “I guess.” He mumbled, getting out of his seat to follow behind everyone else. 

Upon reaching the backyard, Goku slipped out of his shirt and carefully undid the buttons of his shirt. He didn’t want to get them dirty, or ruined as they had been a part of a series of clothes that Chi-Chi had purchased for him. “You didn’t bring any fighting clothes Goku!? Your pants are way too tight to fight me!” Yamcha called, to which Goku simply rolled his eyes at. He knew that the only reason Yamcha wanted to do this fight was because Bulma was watching.

Who was he to say no?

“I totally have the advantage.” Yamcha sneered, a friendly game of instigating had ensued but Goku was used to Yamcha’s ways, they hadn’t changed, at least, not really. 

“Let me get that for you.” Panchy was quick to be at his side, holding her arms out to catch his button-up, which had taken careful fingering of his fingers to get undone. He was startled at her arrival, and chuckled awkwardly before handing it to her. 

“Okay, yeah. Here you go.” She winked at him, before returning to Bulma’s side in the sidelines, what had he gotten himself into? 

Yamcha charged at him head on and Goku didn’t flinch, instead he grounded himself and launched himself into the air, completely avoiding the oncoming attack from Yamcha. The human looked up at him with a grin and laughed as though he were already having fun. 

Instead of allowing himself to land back on the ground where Yamcha could see him, he focused his energy so he could perform an instant transmission, appearing behind the human and dealing a hard blow to the back of his head, causing him to stumble forwards. 

“Hey! No fair.” Yamcha rubbed the back of his head with a series of “ows” glancing around the expanse of the yard to try and locate his friend. Goku appeared in front of him again, and threw a series of punches and kicks that threw the human back, causing him to slide across the ground. 

“Beat him up Yamcha!” Bulma called, to which the Saiyan glanced over at her partner, Vegeta, who seemed visibly annoyed by her outburst. He would be too, if Chi-Chi had been cheering for one of her ex-lovers. Vegeta’s eyes flickered to meet his, and shone with something that made his blood pump harder and faster through his veins. 

However, his staring at Vegeta had kept him so concentrated that Yamcha had managed to land a blow to his left cheek, causing his head to snap in that direction, followed by an airy cheer from Yamcha. 

“Look at me! Defeating the monkey!” Yamcha hollered, which earned light-hearted laughs from their friends. It really only served to annoy Goku though, as he didn’t usually enjoy being called a monkey, of all things. “Even your savage self can’t handle Yamcha!” Yeah, he was still the same show-off he’d always been. 

Goku blinked away the red in his eyes and took a deep breath. He steadied his feet in the ground, and lowered his hands to his side, making a cupping motion with them.

“Goku wait!” Yamcha’s eyes were wide. From somewhere in the crowd he thought he heard Vegeta chuckle. 

“Kame..” Goku began, and a small beam of light had started to form in the circle of his hands, crackling with reserved energy. He was focusing most of his energy, considering it had been a long time since he had used this move and he was sure to be rusty. 

“Goku!” Yamcha called again, sounding genuinely afraid, Goku ignored him. 

“Hame…” The saiyan was visibly ignoring his pleas, despite staring directly at his target, he knew that Yamcha was speaking and that he wanted this to end, but Goku hadn’t delivered the final blow yet.

“Vegeta stop him!” He heard Bulma say, to which his ears honed in on said Saiyan snorting, right in her face, as though what she’d said was comical. “He might actually hurt Yamcha!” 

Vegeta’s voice was plain upon responding. “What do I care?” 

Goku chuckled to himself and felt beads of sweat dripping down his skin, rolling into the pits of his arms and causing him certain areas to become damp. He was charging up a lot of energy, and he planned to use it. 

“Ha!” He bellowed, and released the attack. However, instead of letting it hit his friend, he aimed it towards the ground next to him and while it was going off, allowed it to carry him over to Yamcha without being detected. When the smoke had cleared, and the attack was over with, he delivered the final blow with his fists from above, connecting it with Yamcha’s stomach to only injure him enough that he’d give up. 

Too easy. He thought to himself, despite the slick sheet of sweat coating his skin. The urge to fight was still there, the challenge, the thrill, it made his blood pump fast. So fast, he could practically hear it in his ears. 

He offered a hand down to a groaning Yamcha, who accepted it begrudgingly. “Still the same as always.” Yamcha chuckled, bringing Goku in for an embrace. Goku happily accepted the hug, and Yamcha laughed. “Next time you won’t be so lucky.” He added, resting his forehead against Goku’s as a sign of close friendship, though it probably didn’t look that way to anyone else. 

“Mhm, sure Yamcha.” Goku laughed, and they broke apart, Bulma’s mother, Panchy had rushed forward to take Yamcha from him in order to tend to the wounds that Goku had inflicted. 

“Dad that was awesome!” Gohan cheered, running over to him to give him a hug next. Goku grinned down at his son, who wasn’t too far from being his height now. “You should fight me next! That’ll be a fair fight!”

Goku shook his head. “No, I don’t think–“

“Come on!” Gohan urged. “Yamcha was barely a warm up for you!”

“Hey!” Yamcha cried out, from somewhere behind the crowd that had formed. 

“Look, I don’t want to hurt you..” Gohan looked annoyed at that, and instead perked up once he had a better idea. He shoved Trunks in front of him, and the teenager stumbled slightly, still awkward on his own two feet. “Trunks can fight you! I’ve been training him!” 

“Goku you’d better not lay a hand on my baby!” Bulma seethed, and Goku watched as Trunks' cheeks went pink from embarrassment . “Mom!” Trunks hissed, and Goku knew exactly how he felt. 

“Look, let’s just head inside. I could use a shower.” Goku tried to diffuse the young Saiyans, but they were clearly just as amped up from the fighting as he had been. “Fight Vegeta!” Gohan suggested, to which he noticed Saiyan flinch in response to the idea. “Yeah! He’s old like you! Plus, he’s the only other full Saiyan, now that’s what I call a fair fight!” 

They didn’t understand just how much that meant to him, “the last full saiyan” it was a word that bonded them together whether they liked it or not. 

“Actually, I’m feeling tired. I could use a shower.” Goku said instead, and without soaring Vegeta a second glance, headed into the house before his son could suggest anything more. Any further pushing and he would’ve been tempted, not that he wasn’t already considering what had transpired last time. 

He stepped into the shower and closed the door behind him, glad to have peeled away his sticky clothes from the fight before. His adrenaline was still high, and his body was still shaking slightly but he couldn’t lose control no matter how good it felt. He braced a hand against the shower wall, and tried to focus on how the hot water felt on his aching body, how it soothed away his worries for the time being. 

He heard the door close for a second time and he instantly spiked up, tension flooding into his muscles as he backed up farther into the shower. He was pretty vulnerable here, there wasn’t much he could do to fend someone off without showing them his bits.

“Uh.. hello?” 

“Sorry dear it’s just me!” Panchy’s voice bounced off the shower tiles, and he felt some relief flood his veins, though not much.

“Um.. okay.” He responded, thankfully the shower was stained and you could only make out the outline of the bodies on either side.

Panchy giggled. “I brought you some extra clothes, Bulma told me you’d probably forget so.. I’ll have your old ones washed for you.” She explained, and he watched as she bent over to pick up his dirty clothes from the floor of the bathroom. “Bye! Take all the time you need.” She sing-songed, before he listened to the echo of her heels fade away. 

He sighed, body relaxing once he was alone again, all he wanted was some time to himself. His mind kept flashing to the look in Vegeta’s eyes when Yamcha had wanted to fight him, a look that only ignited the fire in his veins once more.

He swallowed, and shook his head. He really needed to get a hobby. 

He heard the door creak open once more and shut again, and he sighed. “Uh Panchy?” He asked, staring out towards the door. The person was short, but their figure wasn’t as curvy as hers. No, he knew who this was. 

He swallowed thickly. 

“Panchy was in here?” The voice scoffed, and Goku felt his heart speed up. 

“Yeah,” He responded. “She gave me clothes to wear when I’m done, I probably won’t be back for a while.” He mumbled, and hated the fact that somewhere in this house he’d been tied down, forced against his will, and sedated. “This house gives me the creeps.” 

“I know.” Vegeta mumbled, and Goku wondered if he could see him, if he could see the hurt written across his face that there was this.. this tension between them. These unresolved feelings. Words that, for the better part of the time they’d known each other, were left unsaid and might always be.

“You know..” Goku started, the steam from the shower had started to build, fogging the glass that separated them even more. “I don’t regret it… Any of it.” He had tried to address things like this time and time again, only to continuously get shut down from the other saiyan. “And.. you are the last one, the only one who understands that this life...just isn’t enough.” Goku mumbled softly, he’d never said it out loud before, but something inside him yearned for more. 

“If you’re not happy here, then leave.” Vegeta bit back, but the larger saiyan simply sighed in response, not sure how to continue or where to go from here. There was only so much he could do. 

“Maybe.” He responded, pushing his wet hair away from framing his face. He’d considered cutting it once or twice, but didn’t want to risk it not growing back as full or as nicely. “Maybe I’ll leave. Gohan is old enough to understand and Goten, well — I’m sure I can find somewhere for him to stay.” 

“Good, if that’s what you want.” Vegeta responded, and Goku simply continued to rinse and wash his hair, he was nearly finished showering and partly wondering why Vegeta was still in here. 

“Is that what you want?” Goku asked, and felt the tension thicken in the room, like Vegeta had clammed up and somehow had caused the room  
to clam up with him. “Vegeta?” With a towel around his waist he pushed open the door of the shower. Vegeta was leaning back against the counter, arms crossed and looking as broody as ever. 

“Geta.” Goku prompted again, staring at him as the water began to pool underneath his feet. Vegeta’s eyes flickered up to them, and his cheeks flushed a warm red colour upon seeing that his counterpart was wearing nothing but a towel. “Is that what you want?” The towel-clad Saiyan asked, voice soft and vulnerable, and real. He wanted this to be real. 

“Idiot.” Vegeta seethed quietly. “You can’t just stand there like that and ask me that, with that voice!” He was stumbling over his words a little, something he did when he was caught off guard, or feeling flustered. Goku knew him well enough to know that he was possibly uncomfortable, but then again, he never knew what Vegeta was thinking. 

“I’m asking you.” Goku took a step towards him, and then another, until his hands were on either side of Vegeta, resting on the counter while he dared to press his forehead against the smaller saiyan’s. This may be one of the last times he got to do this, where he could have an intimate moment like this with him. “I want to know. Please.” Goku allowed his eyes to flutter shut as he drank the smaller male in, his scent was musky with a hint of pine and a splash of the cold-dewy air from when they were outside. 

He smelt good. 

“What does it matter?” Vegeta hissed, his eyes were screwed shut and his heart was pounding heavy in his chest, but he made no move to stop or shut it down. “If you want to go then I cannot stop you, no matter how I feel!” He sounded hurt almost, like he detested the idea but wouldn’t say it. 

“I would stay,” He blurted out, brushing his nose gently against Vegeta’s, who shivered in response. “If you wanted me to, I would stay. I would always stay if it meant getting to see you.” He felt Vegeta’s cheeks grow hot at his confession, and with a grumble Vegeta asked him, “Where is this coming from?” 

Goku laughed. “Are you kidding? You can’t deny that there’s a bond between us Vegeta, if I’m the only one who feels this strange connection then I really have embarrassed myself.” 

Vegeta grumbled. “You always embarrass yourself.” 

“Maybe.” Goku shrugged, and it was silent between them for a few moments, the only sound was their ragged breathing. Both unsure of what to do next. 

“Geta?” He asked softly, Vegeta didn’t answer but his eyelids did flutter ever so slightly, letting Goku know that he’d heard him and was aware that he was about to ask him something. “Can I kiss you?”

Vegeta’s slight nod caused Goku’s heart to skip a beat, he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming, or if he was dead because the Saiyan in front of him seemed softer in this steamed room, away from prying eyes. He seemed more at ease, despite his flustered state. Goku cupped the shorter male’s cheek, and gently took his lips in for a kiss. Unlike the last time they’d been lip locked, there was no urgency or desire to cross that line, instead this kiss was one of intimacy, one that without trying to, Goku poured his feelings into, and Vegeta kissed him back. 

It wasn’t long before one of them was deepening the kiss, and it became hungry and passionate, messy and almost animalistic. They were pulling and biting, grinding and scratching, itching to do to one another what they’d denied themselves for so long. 

When Vegeta’s hands went to remove Goku’s towel, he cleared his throat and shook his head. “Not here,” He murmured softly, returning Vegeta’s hand back to his side hesitantly, as he really wanted this to continue. “If you’d like to continue, you can meet me at my house tonight. If you don’t show, I’ll have my answer and you won’t be put on the spot so suddenly.” He used the hand that was cupping his cheek to run his fingers through his soft hair. 

“Either way, you know how I feel about you now.” Goku pressed a gentle kiss to Vegeta’s forehead, soaking up his warm skin for just a moment too long before he pulled away, offering Vegeta one last longing glance before collecting his fresh clothing and making his way out of the bathroom. He wasn’t sure what to make of their kiss, but he did know that he liked it. A lot. 

He had dressed into a plain white tee shirt and a pair of track pants, that were quite comfy. Upon dressing himself, he travelled downstairs to fetch Goten, he was pretty sure that Gohan had already left with Trunks, and if not, he was old enough to know how to get home. 

“Please let me keep him one more night!” Panchy begged, when he had found Goten nearly asleep in her lap. He sighed and shook his head, glancing at his son. “Sorry Panchy, I haven’t been the greatest to him recently… so I’d like to take him home and spend some time with him.” She didn’t argue after that, and with Goten bundled up in his arms he took off towards his house. 

-

Goku had returned home that evening and tucked Goten into bed, he had been bouncing off the walls from the amount of sugar he was fed and had finally crashed. For a while, Goku needed to lay with him until he was deep asleep, until then the saiyan was unable to move an inch, otherwise Goten would wake up. 

“Hey Chi-Chi!” Goku exclaimed, upon strolling through the door of their shared home late in the night, dirtied and roughed-up from an intense training session, or a battle against an enemy. Chi-Chi whirled around from her spot in the kitchen, and with an irritated expression put her finger to her lips. “Shh! You’ll wake Gohan. I just got him down to sleep.” 

“Oh,” Goku mumbled sheepishly, and hadn’t even realized how loud he had entered the house until he heard Gohan cry out from his room upstairs. “Gosh, I’m sorry Chi-Chi.” 

“Sorry!?” She whisper shouted, “If you’re so sorry why don’t you try and put him to sleep!?” And stormed out of the kitchen, without sparing him another glance.

“Uh.. okay.” He shrugged, making his way towards the crying that was intensifying with each step he took up the stairs. He almost wanted to take the last two minutes of his life back, and redo it all over again, but he didn’t have enough time for that. 

He entered the room to find Gohan, wailing in his cribs, small fingers curled into tiny, quivering fists that showed no sign of stopping. “Hey..” Goku mumbled, and peered into the crib, earning a swat on the nose from an upset baby Gohan, who definitely didn’t need a disgruntled, six-foot monkey creature to soothe him to sleep.

“Um, here.” He scooped him into his arms, like he’d seen Chi-Chi do effortlessly many times and began to pace around the room, slowly. The crying died down slowly, but Gohan still remained fussy and unable to fall back asleep. “There, that’s better than a stuffy crib, right?” He talked to the baby, who simply whined in response.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” The large saiyan said, as he took a seat in the corner rocking chair and began to rock himself back and forth gently. “I really didn’t mean to, sometimes I forget that your ears are little.. and you don’t like yelling, or bright lights, mean voices, or the baby milk that you can put into bottles…” Gohan was only fussing periodically now, and instead was staring up at him with sleepy eyes. 

“But, I will always be here for you.” He said, fondly. “And I will always protect you.” There was a promising tone to his voice, and he leant back, holding Gohan to his chest as he continued to rock his son to sleep. 

He was almost surprised that the memory had come to him so clearly, his memory had never been the best, even from a young age as he hadn’t remembered significant events in his life such as transforming into a giant ape and executing his grandfather. However, that early stage of Gohan’s life was still present in his mind, and he almost longed for that time again.

“Goodnight, son.” He mumbled softly, before slowly, inch by inch making his way out of the bedroom and shutting the door quietly behind him. He wasn’t honestly sure how well Goten slept through noise, but if he was anything like him or Gohan he would be okay. Maybe. 

The thrill from being with Vegeta earlier in his home had ebbed away, and in it’s place, an emptiness: A ghost of something he once knew. The house was quiet, void of Chi-Chi bustling around the kitchen or even yelling at them, missing Gohan’s ramblings and the coos from Goten that filled the once lively home.

He felt the weight teeter off his shoulders and crash down all around him, in an off-balanced stagger he made his way to the doorframe of the room he and Chi-Chi once shared, bracing himself against the frame as he forced himself inside.

It smelled like her. More than that, it felt like her. It felt as though she wasn’t gone when he entered this room, it was the last bit of her that was left. 

He wobbled over to the unmade bed and lifted himself into it, crawling under the blankets until he was able to rest his head on his fluffy pillow. Something that used to drive Chi-Chi crazy as she’d get threads stuck in her nose and sneeze.

He gripped the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut tightly to ignore the burning sensation behind them. 

“I miss you,” He whispered. “I..I don’t know how to do this without you.” He admitted openly, but only because there was little risk that anyone would hear him speaking such words. Had Goten been awake, or Gohan had been home he would’ve simply forced himself to sleep. 

-

Goku woke up some time later upon hearing a creak in the floorboards of his room. His eyes flew open, and his head shot up, albeit sleepily to fight off any potential intruders. Dark hues landed on the only other one left of his species, and he relaxed slightly. 

“Huh,” Vegeta scoffed. “Doesn’t look like you’re up to do anything tonight.” 

He didn’t know why it stung, he had given Vegeta clear instructions to come to his house around nightfall for sexual reasons. Now though, they didn’t sound so appealingly not now that he was in his head and what not. “I’m tired, Vegeta,” The simpleton responded, and relaxed back into his pillow. “I’m sorry. Just – go, I can’t play these games with you tonight.” 

He heard Vegeta scoff at the dismissal in his tone, and he listened begrudgingly to every retreating step he took that made him wince. Maybe he really was a fool to think that the smaller male could ever want something more from him. 

“Look at his pink shirt!” Yamcha pointed, nearly doubled over in hysteria at the simple fact that Vegeta had been courted into wearing a pink polo while he waited for his armour to be washed and cleaned up. “It’s ridiculous!”

Vegeta said nothing, but he wore a sour enough look on his face that said it all: he wanted to genuinely kill Yamcha. 

“What? I mean, it’s not like he’s wrong you know.” Bulma giggled, even though it had been her idea in the first place, Goku furrowed his eyebrows at that.

“Well, he is short enough to be a girl!” Krillen interjected, which in hindsight wasn’t a complete surprise but to outright mock Vegeta as though they were equals in terms of strength? Bold. “Come on Goku, say something!” His bald friend urged him and said male looked over at Vegeta.

He was clearly uncomfortable, wearing something other than his armour. Feeling vulnerable, as though he were naked for the world to see, possibly even on the verge of an anxiety attack.

Vegeta’s eyes snapped up to meet his, Goku felt his heart lurch.

“Actually, I think it’s cool.” Goku said, shrugging his shoulders at the skeptical expressions and surprised gawking that he was receiving from his friends. “Pink happens to be one of my favourite colours, it’s bright and.. nice. It looks nice – on you.” He rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly, and ignored the burning in his cheeks.

Vegeta scoffed and turned away. 

He had always been there for Vegeta, even though he hadn’t been asked or begged, or whatever. He had always tried to be there, had always tried to give him the benefit of the doubt and encourage him to grow into a better person. 

It never worked of course, they always ended back in the same vicious cycle. Though no matter how hard he tried, it seemed as though he could never break free from it. 

He felt the bed dip from behind him and it startled him, so much so that he nearly rolled over to attack whomever was there. However, upon turning around he found that Vegeta hadn’t left. In fact, he was kneeling on the bed, hands holding an extra pillow and looking down at Goku with bewildered eyes. 

“What are you–“

“Nothing!” Vegeta hissed, and scrambled off the bed to get away. Before he could run, Goku captured his wrist in a gentle yet firm hold. “Let go of me!” It was clear that the prince was embarrassed he’d gotten caught, that he’d snuck into Goku’s bed before while he slept and preferred it that way. 

“No, please, wait,” Goku begged, in such a small and unrecognizable voice he was barely sure it was him speaking. “I’m sorry. Please don’t go..” He allowed his grip to loosen. “Stay, I um..” Vegeta’s eyes were wide, and vulnerable, so much so that Goku could’ve sworn this wasn’t reality. “I need you.” 

“This is me asking. Please.” He felt the crushing pain in his chest return, full force. It felt as though he couldn’t breathe. 

Vegeta said nothing, only crawled back onto the bed and onto the other side of it, so he was facing Goku, he settled his back against the headboard and without looking at him, spread one of his arms open as an invitation for the other saiyan to crawl in. Goku didn’t waste time, he slowly made his way over until his head was resting on the Prince’s chest, and his gloved hand was resting against his bare back. 

“I miss her.” He admitted, as he listened to the racing of Vegeta’s heart.

“I know.” The Prince responded.

“But I love you,” He added, voice thick with sleepiness. “I need you.”

Silence hung between them. 

“‘Geta?” Goku asked against, slicing through the tension radiating off of Vegeta. 

“Mhm.” Vegeta hummed lowly, almost as though he was hoping that the big lug didn’t hear him, but of course he did. 

“Is this okay?” Again, silence hung between them, like Vegeta was carefully picking his words. Not that words had ever been his forte, because everyone knew how good they were with conversations. 

“I don’t know.” He said, voice sounding final, like he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and Goku didn’t push him.


End file.
